


Cool For The Summer

by knightswatch



Category: Free!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightswatch/pseuds/knightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It may be too hot, but Haru is determined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cool For The Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuggestiveScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuggestiveScribe/gifts).



> Written as a birthday gift for SuggestiveScribe. Sinful.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Haru wasn't a great fan of summer. Or at least, any part of summer that he had to spend not submerged in water. The heat made everything ten times as troublesome, and while he would have much preferred to spend his weekend up to his neck in cool bath water he somehow ended up with Makoto talking him into spending the afternoon together. And while the humidity made his head spin and his skin feel like it was in danger of melting away from his bones in protest he was loathe to actually waste the treasure of having Makoto's full attention trained on him by wallowing in the misery of heat.

He was also loathe to do any of those things while wearing clothing, and that lay forgotten in a basket in the corner of his room, leaving him instead with just his jammers and the awareness that Makoto was consistently glancing up from his game to stare. It was almost entertaining that something so familiar to both of them could serve as such a distraction but he still rubbed his shins together with a little grunt, considering how Rin was insisting that shaving them would make him faster. Not that he really cared about all of that, but he wondered how it would feel. Makoto seemed to catch the motion, looking up again with an easy smile on his face.

"Everything okay, Haru-chan?" He was sweet as always, like a bite into tender fruit and Haru shrugged. He was about to scold Makoto for the childish honorific but when he looked up from his magazine he took in Makoto's loose shirt and shorts and suddenly felt like he was melting all over again. His usual protest died out, giving way to new words born from his mouth instead.

"You're wearing too much clothing," he sounded sharp, a little annoyed, like Makoto had actually done something gravely wrong without realizing it. He ducked his head back to the book to hide the beginning of a smile on his face, black hair obscuring the sides of his vision. "You're making it feel hotter in here."

The blankets had already been stripped off his bed to leave just the cool cotton sheet they were both laying on and Haru could feel the radiating warmth of Makoto's red cheeks. He shifted, a little 'ah' sound coming out of his mouth laced with confusion. He knew Makoto was waiting for him to look up so he could read the intent behind that statement but Haru continued staring at the words in front of him, acting like he was actually reading again. It was his way of inviting... something, letting Makoto decide if he wanted to actually do anything about that or not. After a long, quiet moment Makoto sighed and sat up, tugging his shirt over his head and letting it float through the hazy air to the floor, joining the blankets.

“Is that better?” He chuckled when Haru finally lifted his head, eyes tracing the sweat-sticky ridges of Makoto's chest and shrugging, rolling onto his back so they were nearly touching, the pillows rustling under his elbows. Haru paused a moment longer, watching the flush from Makoto's cheeks creep down his neck and blossom on the tanned skin of his chest before lifting his lips in a small smile.

“It's still too hot,” Haru complained, crossing his knees together and tilting his head, sitting up a little further. He was avoiding the urge to reach out and touch that was rising in him; it was too humid to start putting his hands all over Makoto and despite the fan spinning in the window the air felt stale and dead. Makoto sighed, rolling his eyes just slightly.

“How is me undressing going to make you cooler?” He ventured, his eyes skimming away when Haru looked up again with amusement touching over his face.

“You'll be cooler too,” he argued in return, turning his face to the side. It earned another of Makoto's soft chuckles, but the bed shifted under his changing position, lifting when he stood. Haru looked back in time to catch his shorts dropping to the floor with a soft crumpling sound before he kicked them to the side. Haru wrinkled his nose a little at the carelessness but decided not to comment. He returned to staring at Makoto openly, one hand resting on the pages of his magazine, Makoto's whole body lighting with his blush.

“I feel like you're not doing this because of the heat Haru-chan,” he grumbled, lifting his hands to cover his face and Haru was definitely starting to agree, at least a little bit. There were more things he wasn't doing because of the heat, and the more he took in the carved curves of Makoto's body the more that was becoming a problem.

“I like looking at you,” he said simply instead, ducking his eyes back to the magazine despite his words when the bed dipped again under Makoto's added weight. He groaned and Haru looked up through his bangs, watching Makoto's throat bob around a swallow, tracing down the cords of his neck.

“H-Haru! You can't just-” he started then seemed to notice that Haru was staring again, the pink flush of his face darkening and leaving Haru wondering if he had enough blood for both the reactions that his body was going through, judging by the growing hardness Haru could see in his boxers when he looked, which he did. Pointedly.

The problem was he didn't actually want to any actual touching at the moment, but he wanted-- something. Something that made his skin prickle despite the heat. He closed the magazine with a little snap that made Makoto jump slightly, the springs of the bed protesting the sudden motion. The corners of his mouth quirked at Makoto's nerves, tilting his head to one side and tracing his eyes from where Makoto was half-hard, slowly over his abs, taking his time before looking him in the face again. “Can't what?”

Makoto made a frustrated little whining sound, his eyes wide and round with something like grave betrayal. When Haru didn't take pity on the expression he crossed his arms over his chest instead, a show of bare muscle that didn't escape Haru's laser focus. “You're teasing me.”

He sounded like he was on the brink of absolute misery and Haru resisted the urge to roll his eyes, shrugging his shoulders and trying to decide exactly what he was doing. When he didn't immediately come up with an answer he decided to just keep pressing and instead leaned forward, almost cringing at the burning brush of his knee against Makoto's calf, digging a hand blindly in the nightstand until his fingers wrapped around a plastic tube that he was no longer really pretending to even hide in his things-- it wasn't as if his parents were going to barge in and find it, and Makoto was well aware of its location by now. 

He paused in drawing it out, frowning slightly before dropping it on the chiseled plane of Makoto's stomach with the small twist of a frown across his lips. Makoto blinked, doe-eyed and confused until he actually looked down at the lube and lit up crimson again. He dropped his head back between his shoulders, and Haru lost track of his whining syllables in his focus on watching the stretch and twitch of the muscles at Makoto's throat. 

His attention snapped back when one broad, superheated hand drew along the clothed surface of his hip and Haru shook his head sharply. "No. For you."

His tone had gone sharp and commanding and Makoto's hesitation sloughed off him in a surprising way. He didn't pose any awkwardly probing questions at what Haru was looking for, and even as the constant flush of his face expanded to cover the stretch of his throat and the angles of his collarbones he lifted his hips to draw his boxers down, glancing up like he wasn't sure if Haru's eyes were going to drift away. They didn't, of course, he watched every exposed milimeter of flesh with a buzzing hunger underneath his skin. He felt like Makoto's body was an extension of his own, could pratically feel the sharp dig of Makoto biting into his lip while he opened the plasticky cap of the tube, squirting slick liquid onto his fingers.

For a brief, delirious second Haru was jealous of its coolness, but it was a forgotten emotion when he met with the raw hunger that Makoto couldn't quite wipe off his face. Haru was annoyed at his inability to watch everything at once; Makoto's eyes fluttering with the threat of closing, the rolling motion of his chest as he breathed slow and deep, filling his lungs with greedy pulls of air, the slight upward twitch of his hips when his cool fingers first brushed at his rim before they started teasing it in small circles. Haru's mouth felt dry, the rest of the world tilted out of focus in comparison to watching the muscle of Makoto's thighs tense when his index finger started to sink inside of himself. There was the single chirp of a sound from him before he returned to biting into his lower lip.

Part of him wanted just to watch how Makoto would elect to toy with himself while he knew Haru was watching, but there was a nervous tremble working in his fingertips and he was sliding his finger in far too slowly for the excess of lube that he had managed to smear on himself. He reached out, despite the heat, stroking the smooth flesh of Makoto's thigh with a little hum from the back of his throat, looking up from under his bangs in a way that resulted in a gratifying gasp falling out of Makoto's mouth. "More."

Makoto positively whined at the direction, his finger crooking to actually push inside of himself with real intent, a hard breath making his chest heave. It came out with a ragged exhale, like Haru pushed all the air out of him with the feather light touch on his leg. It probably tickled a little, judging by the way Makoto jumped slightly at the motion, or maybe he wasn't expecting Haru to touch him at all. His eyes were squinted but there was still focus in them when he looked back at Haru, throat bobbing around a swallow. "C-can you--"

It took a moment to understand what he might want but Haru caught on quickly when his eyes flicked down to the black fabric still stretched over his legs and Haru almost grinned. He didn't, because it would look absurd, but it was close. He nodded, drawing his hand back with deliberate slowness, the same pace he used to push his jammers down and peel them off his legs, letting them spread as he did. There was no particular attachment for him to being clothed or not, but Makoto gasped out weakly at the display, and the slow thrusts of his finger increased just a little. Haru nodded down at Makoto's hand, considering before leaning over him again. "Do another."

He was digging a hand under the pillow that wasn't trapped beneath Makoto, and it brought their faces close together. He could see the reaction to the small stretch mapped out across his face-- the slight crunch of his eyebrows together, the slackening of his damp lips, the flinch of his eyelids when he blinked. Haru snatched the object he was looking for while Makoto was adjusting to the increased pressure inside himself, tucking it behind his back and instead wrapping one of his hands around his own cock as a small distraction.

Makoto's eyes fell on his grip as soon as they opened, watching the weak pump of Haru's wrist around himself. It was too loose and slow to be anything greater than a frustration, but rather than focus on it he nodded at Makoto to continue, electing to keep his pace rather than follow the rough pumps of Makoto's fingers. He nodded in slow approval, tilting his head just slightly to the side, writing Makoto's reactions into his memory. "Good."

"Stretch yourself," he directed, almost covering Makoto's groan at the praise. It was low and hard, his natural tone stripped of the chirp of his high strung emotions. Not something that was likely to escape Haru's notice when he had something else on his mind, but now, when all of his thoughts were conquered by picking every twitch of muscle and flutter of eyelashes apart, Haru's mouth tipped into a smile.

Makoto didn't offer anything but his obedience, sinking his fingers in and scissoring them apart. The smack of his cock against his stomach wasn't loud, but it was made worse by the damp patch of sweat and precum on his stomach, his hips pushing to increase the pleasure of stretching his rim open. He chanced looking at Haru again and seemed caught by what he saw, his expression melted like soft chocolate. "H-Haru, I need--"

"You're doing so good," he didn't really feel bad for cutting Makoto off, because he had already decided exactly what Makoto was going to get. The praise made him whine low from the back of his throat, and Haru wondered if he knew that he was nodding along. He stroked his thumb over the throbbing vein running up the underside of Makoto's cock. "More. Do three."

He shifted his other hand from loosely holding onto his length to pushing Makoto's thighs further apart, ignoring the sparks of heat that pulled to the surface of his skin at the touch, focused instead on watching Makoto's rim stretch raw and delirious around three of his fingers, tiny sounds falling out of his mouth attached to each breath and a tremble working down his legs that Haru could only feel because of his hand still resting there with all the excessive heat of a brand. He didn't do anything more than pet at Makoto's cock with no real pressure or friction behind it, making his hips twitch and his fingers curl erratically-- searching...

He didn't wait for Makoto to find the spot that he wanted, instead gripping around his wrist tightly and easing his fingers out for him. Makoto didn't resist, looking up at Haru with a whimper, drooping eyes and parted lips, questioning. He reached behind him, releasing Makoto's wrist to instead grab the vibrator that he had snatched from under the pillow. Maybe he wasn't as sly as he had thought, or maybe Makoto was too fucked out to do anything but stare at him with a reedy sound that was almost a keen, nodding his head and spreading his legs out on his own. 

Haru lifted the lube from where it had fallen to Makoto's side, cracking open the lid to squirt out enough to cover the toy, raising an eyebrow at the impatient heaves of Makoto's breath. He leaned slightly as he pressed the blunt head against Makoto's open enterence, dropping a chaste kiss to his knee. "You're doing so good for me, Makoto."

He eased it insde slowly, leaving the motor dormant until half of it was seated inside without making any of Makoto's reactions flinch towards uncomfortable. He twisted the base slightly, making it rumble to life and watching Makoto's back arch as if he'd been shocked, fingers knotting into the sheet clinging onto the bed with a flutter of eyelashes and a desperate butchering of Haru's name falling out of his mouth. He fucked it into Makoto with slow strokes, drawing him slowly further and further undone until he pushed back onto each thrust, heels dug into the bed to increase the power of each push.

Giving the base another twist, Haru angled the toy slightly upwards after pressing it in to the flared base, giving Makoto's cock several firm strokes while pushing the relentless motor up into his prostate. Makoto's back jerked like it was about to snap in half, the bed thumping against the wall with the violent force shaking through his limbs. The tension didn't bleed out of his limbs when he came, white strips painting over his pale stomach as Haru kept the stroke of his hand and the hum of the toy inside him relentless. Makoto's voice cracked halfway through an attempt to make a sound above a hoarse whimper, still heaving air so hard it looked nearly painful when Haru twisted the toy off, leaving it dormant inside him again.

Despite his best efforts to ensure otherwise Haru was covered by a sheen of sweat, muscles drawn tight as Makoto's eyes cracked open, pupils wide and devouring the green of his iris. His voice buzzed, raising above a breath with the force put into his words. "H-Haru?"

He hummed slightly in response, easing the toy out and rubbing his hands over Makoto's shaking legs, meeting his half-hearted effort to sit up with a kiss in reward. He was surprised enough to flinch when one of Makoto's hands landed on his hip, glad when Makoto took the reaction with a soft laugh rather than concern, stroking slowly as his other warm hand wrapped around Haru's neglected cock. He'd pulled himself upright to continue kissing Haru, moving from his mouth to nip over the pale skin of his throatregaining his breath slowly. "You have to let me take care of you too, Haru-chan."

Haru shrugged, even as his hips tipped into the steady pace of Makoto's hand wrapped around him, swallowing down the sigh that tried to tumble out of his mouth. "I wanted to watch you."

Makoto paused at the words and if they weren't pressed so close even in the oppressive heat of the room, listening to the dying rattle of a decade old fan trying to cool the writhing heat underneath Haru's skin that was only building more and more oppressive with every steady stroke, Haru would have missed the shiver that rolled down his spine. If he hadn't just dedicated himself to unraveling Makoto it would be strange how fast he came to the simple pressure of Makoto's hands-- one wrapped around his length and the other guiding the tiny thrusts of his hips, the tiny drag of teeth against his shoulder, murmurs pressed into his skin that Haru wasn't even sure were real thoughts. He failed to swallow down the breathy sound that fell out of his mouth when he came, felt the rumble of Makoto's chuckle as he slumped over against him; not particularly willing to fall into the usual pattern of Makoto holding him, but not willing to pull himself away either.


End file.
